


I Heard That You Missed Your Connecting Flight

by retrinazambrano



Series: Lucky Feather and Magic Knickers [5]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Outlaw Queen Advent Calendar 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2018-12-22
Packaged: 2020-04-06 13:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19063351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retrinazambrano/pseuds/retrinazambrano
Summary: A missed flight on Christmas Eve is possibly one of the worst scenarios imaginable for Regina Mills, and it's just as well Robin Locksley is in the same boat, for they end up in the same car, racing to make it back in time to spend Christmas with their loved ones.





	I Heard That You Missed Your Connecting Flight

**Author's Note:**

> For OQ Advent 2018.
> 
> I've used the idea of the united realms and as I've never missed a flight before, I've used creative license to fill in the gaps.
> 
> I have also changed Belle to Tinkerbell, as suggested to me, from the original. It works SO much better. Thank you, Bianka!

_This is a call for passenger Regina Mills, flying to Misthaven on Once Airways flight SB23. The flight is due to depart. Please come to gate five immediately._

Regina, at first, had congratulated herself on leaving earlier than necessary. It’s just typical that, on one of the busiest days of the year, a bridge would collapse. Thankfully there’s no casualties, as the radio reports, but the road is gridlocked. The side of the road that leads to the airport, no less. 

Though she’d originally left in plenty of time, the possibility that Regina may actually miss her flight was becoming more and more real. Her heart beat faster, her panic relatively internalised (until her Swyft driver spoke to her, of course, then her voice rose), bar the impatient tapping of her fingers against her thigh as her eyes darted back and forth at all the headlights passing on the opposite side of the road. They’re all going home for Christmas, she thinks, as the sound of yet another horn brings her out of her head and fully into the present.

Leopold had given - rather, passive aggressively forced - the business trip to Regina. He required her to fly to Camelot and schmooze with prospective investors, despite her familial commitments, and she’d said no, but Leopold had insisted; if she didn’t, he’d make sure she worked over Henry’s birthday. Or new year. Or both. She said she would give him her final answer the following day and he had promised she would be home in time for Christmas and could also have New Year off without taking vacation days for her trouble. To give the man credit, he had made sure she was on an early evening flight home… but of course, sod’s law that she’d be stuck so close, yet so far. 

Henry was okay with it. In fact, when she had asked her ten-year-old son whether he was okay with her going, he said it was important that she did. After all, they had their own traditions in the lead up to the holiday - the weekend before the big day, Regina would take Henry to visit Father Christmas at the Storybrooke Grotto (she breathes a sigh of relief that they at least got to do that part this year) to tell this ‘Santa’ exactly what he wanted, before going to pet the reindeer, his favourite seasonal animal. During the year, he’s into wolves and dogs in general, but come December 1st, he is mad on reindeer, and from his lunchbox to his pajamas, he’s decked out with the antlered beings.

That’s the first of several long-standing traditions that the Mills duo have incorporated into their Christmas and Regina can’t help but feel guilty for missing the other events on their rightful dates. But, she reminds herself constantly, it was _Henry_ who encouraged her to go. Traditions were still traditions, he told her, no matter when they’re done. They’ll be together _for_ Christmas. 

Maybe. It makes this situation all the more frustrating. She’d stopped to get Henry a gift that had caught her eye whilst she was pounding the Camelot pathways, an apology gift slash souvenir that she knew he’d love; a clear bauble, which housed a mini gold reindeer with sparkly antlers, a Christmas hat hanging off the top of one with a teeny tiny bell around its neck. It was perfect for Henry. 

Now, it seems that the decision to go back for it had cost her valuable travelling time. The worry and the constant check of her watch had her heart rate up, watching and silently cursing all those on the other side of the road making progress on an extremely chilly Christmas Eve. 

Her flight was delayed by an hour, according to the tracker, yet when Regina finally arrived at the terminal, it was final call. There were queues upon queues through security and bag drop, countless others impacted by the traffic and, like her, just wanting to get back home to their loved ones. She heard her name repeatedly over the tannoy, asking her to come straight to the departure gate but, with the best will in the world - and as fast as she could briskly walk in her heels - she was always doomed to arrive a little too late. 

“I’m _sorry_ , Miss Mills, but we put out multiple calls on the tannoy for you,” the red headed assistant told her nonchalantly. 

“Well,” Regina responds, narrowing her eyes to read the girl’s name tag, “ _Zelena_ , what did you expect me to do? Saying my name on a tannoy won’t do anything.”

“It’s meant to tell you to hurry.” Zelena looks down at Regina’s shoes and scrunches up her face, but says nothing more. 

“Yes, fine, okay. Can you get me on the next flight?” The brunette asks exasperatedly, fed up of this woman’s attitude, just desperate to get home. Leopold may have assured she be home for Christmas, but his assistant (also his daughter, conveniently enough) hadn’t exactly chosen the easiest route; a flight from Camelot, to Olympus, then an hour’s layover before her final flight into Misthaven. She knew Mary Margaret had it in for her ever since it was revealed that she and Mary Margaret’s husband David had a brief fling when they were teenagers. That girl. 

Regina watched as Zelena tapped away at the keyboard, eyes zipping back and forth across the screen until she finally, eventually, shook her head. 

“I’m afraid that’s the last flight out of here in that direction for tonight and,” she has one last look, “all other reasonable routes are fully booked.”

Regina can feel her temperature rise and, though it’s not the assistant’s fault, she’s the face of the company, their representative, and her attitude is not helping. “Have you tried direct?”

Zelena sighs - huffs really - and nods. “Of course. The next flight out of here direct to Misthaven is on December 26th.”

 _December-twenty-fucking-sixth._ The day after Christmas. Her son will have to spend Christmas without her unless she can get on another flight. He’s with trusted friends now, but Christmas is their time, and she’s got to find a way. 

“Well have you any other bright ideas?” Regina snips at the assistant, and her brows rise before her lips settle in an almost malicious smirk. 

“Sorry, I can’t help you.” She goes on to explain that, because she missed her connection, rather than it being the fault of the airline, she’s not eligible for any compensation, monetary or otherwise. She’ll have to find her own accommodation for the night, or wait it out in the terminal. Just fucking brilliant. 

Regina’s near enough about to strangle the woman before she offers her a possible lifeline. “There is a flight that goes from Camelot to Dunbroch, then on to Misthaven. You would arrive late tomorrow evening and there is a significant stop over in Dunbroch. I can see that there may be one seat so far unaccounted for…” Zelena looks up at Regina. “I can put you on standby for this flight. No promises.” Regina’s about to nod and thank her when she adds, “I’m not meant to do this, so I’m doing you a Christmas favour.”

Regina resists the urge to roll her eyes, but instead just nods and hopes for the best. Picking up her bags, she sits herself at the gate, taking her phone and calling her son. Henry tells her that he and Emma had made brie and cranberry toasties and that he can’t wait for her to come home so they can do all the things he looks forward to all year round. Regina’s hand wraps around her phone tightly then, tears welling in her eyes as she tells her son that she’s trying her absolute best to make it back for Christmas Day. She can hear the drop of his voice, the sheer disappointment, and it breaks Regina’s heart even more. A tear falls, then another, as she tries to calmly explain that she wants to be there, so much, and she’ll do everything in her power to do so. 

_Don’t cry, mom_ , Henry tells her, so naturally the tears come thick and fast. She’s grateful for the emptiness of the immediate area, because she looks and sounds like one hell of a mess right now. The more she thinks about how Henry’s trying his best to console her, the harder she cries, the more guilty she feels. In the end, her head is in her hands as she tells her son she loves him so, so much as they hang up. She decides to take a few deep breaths, take a walk around the gate and grab a water, hoping for the best. 

By the time she returns, there’s a dishevelled and clearly stressed man at the desk, having much the same conversation she had just a half hour earlier. Regina tunes it out, until she overhears that Zelena woman say _I’ll put you on standby, Robin_. For the same flight as her. She looks up then, as the man shrugs in defeat with a growly _it’s Mr Locksley_ , and slumps into the seat opposite her, watching blankly as she gets up. 

“Excuse me, hi,” Regina greets Zelena again, and the redhead gives her a fake smile. “I couldn’t help but overhear that you’ve put someone else on standby for that flight you recommended?”

Zelena looks to the screen and indignantly offers up an oops. “Well, if a seat comes up, you’ll have to work it out between you.”

Regina is pretty sure that that isn’t how it works. “You know, I’m pretty sure that it should be first come, first served?” And Zelena shakes her head. “What? Then how-?”

“We don’t know how many people we’ll need on standby,” she cuts in. “We could have five seats, we could have one, we could have none. It’s a chance you take.” Regina’s shoulders sag in defeat and she goes back to her seat. 

***

The next hour is agonising as the departure time for the flight looms nearer and she notices how the man - Robin, she remembers - opposite her - also on standby - is wringing his hands, just as anxious as she is, checking his watch with barely a thirty second gap between. She doesn’t say anything to him, however; he’s her competition and there’s no point in establishing conversation.

They both barely register the phone at the desk, but when Zelena mutters the phrase Misthaven, their ears prick up and their attentions divert to the redhead at the desk. After a few mhms and nods, some general hums and a sickly-sweet thank you, she puts the phone down and the two rush up to her.

“So,” Regina asks, “what’s going on? How many seats?”

“Will we both get back for Christmas?” Robin adds, nervous energy crackling between the two of them.

“There’s one seat for this flight,” Zelena explains. “We are overbooked. I’m sorry.” The woman is clearly fed up with the two of them - Regina especially - for her sorry comes across ingenuine and the opposite of what she says. “I will have to pick at random, unless you can sort it out between you.” She looks between the two of them, as they’ve turned to look at one another. “But I will need to ask you to step aside so I can help this customer.”

They move without comment before they start battling it out, Regina telling him of her ten-year-old son, Robin countering with his six-year-old motherless son, how it’s the first Christmas without her and that he needs to be there. Regina feels for him, she does, but she deserves to see her son too, and that back and forth continues. At the end of it all, they both have the same goal, the same situation and it’s near on impossible. Zelena’s voice is the only thing that brings them out of their heated discussion.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Heller, have a safe flight.” The pair turn to find a previously unaccounted for man with a warm coat, a briefcase and a much coveted boarding pass in his hand.

“What?” Regina asks, just as her unwilling companion does so and this so-called Mr. Heller simply shrugs.

“You’re not the only people who need to get home for Christmas,” he states coldly and Zelena nods along.

“We don’t have time to wait for a decision and Mr. Heller took the chance.” An opportunist indeed. “Have a good flight.”

The smarmy man takes a quick exit then (probably advisable, what with the furious look on Regina’s face) and Zelena also stands. “Well, what do you expect us to do!?” The man turns to her and Zelena shrugs again. 

“I’m going home,” she states. “My colleague will be here to-” she looks up and sees the brunette coming towards her, “- ah here she is; my colleague can take over.” Without a further word, and barely a nod of acknowledgement to the woman taking her post, she leaves, heels clacking along the airport floor.

Both Regina and her companion are willing to take up yet another fight, when the newcomer smiles. “Hey,” she says in an unexpected Australian accent, “How can I help?”

“Your colleague,” Regina responds in a biting tone, “has been exceptionally unhelpful in our situation!”

“Indeed she has,” Robin agrees, albeit in a much calmer tone, “and I will not hesitate in making a complaint towards her.” He then goes on to explain the situation that had arose between Zelena, he and Regina, and Tink - as she had introduced herself - nods along, humming and apologising profusely for the attitude of her peer.

“I am so, so sorry for how you’ve been treated,” she says, checking the ID of both, “...Mr Locksley and Ms Mills.” Tink turns back to the screen and despite a much more thorough search, she only comes up with the same result. “I’m sorry, there’s no flights.” 

Regina can feel her eyes beginning to well up, and Robin is much the same; she can hear his deeper breathing as he tries to tamper down his frustration, and as she’s about to let the dam free, Tink speaks up.

“There’s always a hire car?” She offers, and they both look at her. “I’ve checked and I’ve used all my discounts to get you the best price possible. I know it’s been a horrible evening for you - it’s Christmas Eve after all - and I want to at least try and help you get some of your Christmas back.” By the end of Tink’s speech, Regina is crying and rounding the desk to give the petite woman a hug. 

“Hey, Ms Mills, where are you headed?” Robin asks. “Perhaps we’re going the same way?”

“Regina, please,” she sniffs. “I’m going to Storybrooke,” she explains, guessing he’s probably never heard of the sleepy little town and she’s about to say that it doesn’t matter, when his eyes light up.

“Storybrooke? Really? Me too.” He smiles then, probably for the first time in the last couple of hours and it’s infectious, causes Regina to smile too. “I’m Robin, by the way. Nice to meet you, Regina.” 

Regina takes his hand and notes the strong, confident handshake. “Robin, yes. You too.” She’s not going to admit she remembers his name. 

***

It’s not a perfect plan, but they’re on the road in no time, thanks to Tink’s efficiency, Robin at the wheel, Regina having loaded the car with their bags and luggage. “GPS says we’ll make it back to Storybrooke in eight or so hours. Traffic permitting.”

Regina groans at the thought. “So we should be there by 9am… 9am? I think we’d be better off taking a break in between to recharge. I can’t imagine you’ve had enough sleep to last you another couple of hours.”

“How’d you know?” He responds with a dimpled grin. “You’re right. I had a meeting at 8 this morning and I’ve been rushed off my feet ever since. Then when that bridge collapsed…”

“Affected you too, huh? What a mess! Still, I’m glad we’re on our way.” Regina leans in and starts to play with the gadgets on the dashboard. “Where’s the radio…?”

“Feeling the festive spirit?” He laughs as she knocks the windscreen wipers. “Hmm, not the music I was expecting…” Regina mutters a playful shut up as Robin points to the radio button. “Do you not drive, Ms Mills?”

“I don’t really have to,” she explains. “My office is a stone’s throw away from my house and my son gets the bus to school, so I rarely use my car… when I do though, I swear it’s the only car I absolutely know where everything is.” 

“Makes sense,” Robin hums as he indicates to go left. “Whoa!” he calls out as he takes the turn perhaps a little too wide and his phone comes off the holder. Thankfully, Regina catches it and, with a breath, attaches it more securely to the grate.

“Ms Mills and her cat-like reflexes! Thanks for that, can never get those grate things to work.”

“You’re grateful, huh?” And Regina proceeds to laugh at her own joke, and Robin just rolls his eyes. Not that she can see that in the darkness. “Hey, I apologise for the way I may have come across before.”

“Before?” He asks. “Oh, you mean at the gate? Well, I guess I get it - we both have children awaiting our arrival. I should apologise too.”

“You’ve nothing to apologise for,” she tells him, squeezing his arm as she does so.

“Then we’re all good.” Robin reaches out and presses the correct button then, and the vehicle is flooded with the soft tones of Michael Buble singing yet another Christmas classic.

“I like this one,” Regina tells him as they ride along.

Robin glances at her with a smile, before starting to sing along. It’s equally as soft, tuneful; there’s no battle for volume with the radio. Just his voice floating along with the melody. And Regina is floored; she listens intently, her stresses just dissipating with every note. She’s almost in a trance by the time the song ends.

“That was beautiful,” Regina whispers, eyes opening again.

“Yeah?” He blushes. “I normally just sing in the shower,” he tells her. “Or sometimes when my son asks me to do so. One day, he’s going to be embarrassed of his old man’s tunes, so I’m going to enjoy it as much as I can.”

***

Regina doesn’t know when she dozed off, but she’s jostled awake by a gentle shake of her arm. It’s still dark out, save for the bright lights coming from the diner just ahead of them. “Need a coffee,” Robin tells her, killing the engine. “Last thing I want is to fall asleep at the wheel when on the home stretch.” Regina looks around, then to Robin. “You fell asleep about an hour ago.”

She sits herself up and stretches. “Sorry, I meant to be better company.” 

“Nonsense. Looks like you could do with some caffeine yourself.” He unlocks the door and lets the cold air in, giving his back a grateful pop. 

“At least let me get the coffees,” Regina tells him as she brings her arms around herself in a feeble attempt to recoup some of the warmth from the car. 

They’re both grateful when the diner door closes behind them and they’re shown to their booth, sliding in opposite one another. It’s cosy, and Regina finally peels her fingers away from her arms, as does Robin. 

“Did you want anything to eat?” She asks, giving the menu the quick once-over. She’s not normally one for diners other than Granny’s, but this is a special case and, now the panic’s gone, she feels pretty hungry. 

“Hm.” Robin’s eyes scan the page, his finger following his gaze until he taps right at what he wants. “How about we get a large pancake stack to share?”

Can’t go wrong with pancakes, she thinks, and she nods. “What do you normally have with yours?” 

“Lashings of maple syrup,” he tells her as he orders the food and two black coffees. “If it’s on the plate, I’ll probably eat it. Bacon is also another favourite. I normally end up eating most of it when I share with my son,” he tells her. “He definitely has eyes bigger than his belly, that kid.”

Regina smiles wider at the mention of his son. “What’s his name? You said he was six?”

“That’s right. His name’s Roland. A little delight, if you ask me, though he can be a scamp. Thinks his dimples can let him get away with anything.”

“Why do I have the feeling you’re the same?” She teases and Robin grins then, looking down. 

“Let’s just say it’s done me no harm.” He fishes out his phone then, showing Regina the home screen, a picture of him, Roland and a beautiful woman Regina can only conclude is his wife.

“Okay, yes, he is exceptionally cute. This your wife?” Regina points and Robin’s smile falters as he turns the screen back to look at it. “Oh, sorry. I should have thought.” She thinks back to how he said this was his first Christmas without his wife and she inwardly grimaces, but Robin shakes his head. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Regina, don’t worry. This is Marian.” He turns the phone back to her. “She died about nine months ago; cancer.” His voice now is almost a whisper and Regina knows that the pain is red raw. “It’s our first Christmas without her, and it’s so important that Roland has me there with him. He’s with my friend John and his partner Will, but it’s not the same. They can barely hold a raw turkey, much less cook one.”

She doesn’t know what urges her to do it, and she wouldn’t under most other circumstances, but she reaches out for Robin’s hand, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “I’m sorry for what happened.” 

There’s no pity in her eyes and for that, Robin is surprised; usually, people load on the sympathy to the point where it seems insincere, or they don’t say a word at all, but Regina’s expression and tone makes him feel like she’s not just saying it because she can. In fact, it’s like she has been through it before… but he doesn’t want to ask. Not now, not when she’s rubbing her thumb over the back of his palm, offering comfort in such a way that only his son has been able to give him so far.

She gives him a close-lipped smile as they break apart, the pancakes and coffee placed between them with a gentle bon appetit! From the waitress.

With a mouth full of batter, Robin continues the conversation. “So, how did you end up in Storybrooke? If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like the small town sort.”

Regina smiles as she takes a sip of her coffee. “Storybrooke born and bred, would you believe?” Robin’s brows raise. “It’s true! My dad also comes from Storybrooke, but my mother is from far out of town. They decided to settle there.” 

“And is your son with them now?” Robin asks and Regina pauses before shaking her head. 

“No, sadly. My dad died when I was a teenager. I miss him a lot, but I named Henry after him and he’s taken on a lot of his characteristics. Got a very active imagination.”

She speaks of her late father with such affection, he notes. “And what of your mother?”

“Less pleasant, would you believe. She’s still alive, as far as I know, but I haven’t seen her since my father’s funeral.” She takes a breath. “My dad left me their house in his will. It was something he wanted and was very, very clear on that. I was on the cusp of 18 and so it was possible… and my mom fought it the whole way because I didn’t just hand the deeds over.” She sighs. “Haven’t seen her since I was about 20.”

“I’m sorry, Regina. It sounds like you had a really tough couple years.”

She shrugs with a nod. “It’s not a time I wish to relive and I realised then that I never really knew my mother at all. Now I’m a mother myself too, I find I don’t care to know her.” She shakes away the thoughts. “How about you?”

“Funnily enough, not a native.” Regina nods, telling him the accent was a giveaway. “I’m originally from Sherwood, as was Marian, but we fell on hard times and into a bad crowd.”

“I don’t know Sherwood very well, but I’ve heard there’s gang problems,” she tells him as she takes a sip of her coffee again. 

“Precisely. Let’s just say I owed someone dangerous quite a bit of money, so I…” he pauses to collect his thoughts, “... set up a robbery. Got caught, before you ask, charged and served a year for it.”

Regina’s wide-eyed by the time he’s finished speaking. “So you were away for a year… and…?”

He had expected her to flee after his revelation. “Marian found out she was pregnant while I was in prison, but thankfully I made it out before she gave birth. Roland’s birth was our turning point and I swore I was never going to leave him, ever… then I got a warning that I still owed all that money.” He skips over the gory details. “In short, we ran. We moved to a few places, but Storybrooke was the first place we really felt we could build our home. And the rest is history.”

That causes Regina to smile. “I like that, Robin. You made a negative situation a positive one, and I admire you for wanting to be better for your son. Kids change us, huh?”

“That they do,” he agrees. 

***

An hour later, they’re back on the road, more alert and sated, a polystyrene cup of black coffee between them to last them the ride. The radio is back on at a low volume and they’re relaxed, comfortable with each other to the point that Robin takes a breath to ask the question that’s been on his mind since they left the airport.

“So, what about you and your son?” He tries and he hears a faint inhale. “What is it you do? What about his dad?”

She expels that breath and straightens up, coughing gently as she does. “Henry is ten. His dad passed about five years ago. Horse riding accident.” She swallows past the lump in her throat as she recalls her first love’s fate. “So, other than some close friends, it’s just me and him.”

Robin nods then. “I had a feeling you’d felt how similar to how I did at losing my Marian.”

“Indeed I understand. I may have had many more years to adjust, that’s what I’ve done - adjust. I miss him every day, but it does get easier. Watching Henry grow into his own person, the caring, creative soul he is, he reminds me so much of his Dad, my Dad… it hurts, but it also keeps me going. Makes me realise that there’s life to be lived and Daniel would want me to be happy, even without him here.”

“Daniel,” he echoes and Regina hums. “I’m sorry too.” Regina shakes her head; she’s heard enough apologies to last a lifetime and she’s come to the point whereby it’s less likely than not that she’ll cry when she thinks of him too much. “I really wanted to make this Christmas special for Roland, you know. Something really homely and welcoming. Then I missed that damn flight.”

“I understand,” she replies. “Henry and I have a series of traditions that we go through every year without fail. This is the first year we’ve not been able to do them when we’re meant to.” Regina explains how her boss sent her on this assignment, that she only accepted because Henry urged her to. “So I feel awful that I may not have been able to make it back for at least Christmas Day.”

Robin smiles. “Well, we’re making good time, and you know, I like the idea of traditions. What sort of things do you do?”

Regina tells him of the annual trip to Santa’s Grotto, something Robin does with Roland too, and how Henry loves reindeer. “On the 23rd, we always take a long walk up to Firefly Hill,” Regina continues and Robin tells her he knows it. “Whatever the weather, wind or snow, we go up to the highest point, where’s there one tree that flowers all year round.” She takes a shaky breath. “We take a candle and, if it’s dry, we light it.” Regina recalls the year before, where there was no snow, nor rain. In fact, it was a pretty clear, crisp day. She and Henry had taken their favourite cinnamon-scented candle and sat there together, arms around one another as they talked about his dad, her love, and took in the familiar scent. It was almost like he was right there with them. She supposed that that was the point.

Robin’s heart is warmed by the first of their rituals and it has the cogs in his mind turning. “I like that one. Marian and I really loved the woods by the old Troll Bridge, perhaps Roland and I could do something similar. Maybe light a fire, roast some marshmallows. We’re a pretty outdoorsy lot.” 

It makes Regina smile. “I like it. Something you all share together. We never forget them,” she says as she shakes her head, “and I like to think that, somewhere out there, they know.”

“They know,” Robin responds, reaching for Regina’s hand, just as she had done earlier in the morning. “What else do you do?”

“Well, that evening, I like to make Henry and I a chicken broth, then we sit by the fire before bedtime with hot chocolate. We like to build a blanket fort,” she admits coyly. “I try to help, but honestly, Henry is the real architect.” She laughs at the thought. “I put on the Christmas music and we cuddle up for the evening.” She’s missed this part of their traditions in particular; there’s a finite amount of years that Henry will want to willingly do this with her, and she’s gone and missed this year’s chance. 

“Now, may I say that sounds like heaven?” Robin chuckles, causing Regina to do the same. “Marian used to dress Roland up in a Christmas onesie and always managed to get me in one too. Last year, we were all elves. The things we do for the ones we love, huh?” He still can’t believe that was their last real holiday together; they found out about the cancer so late that Marian didn’t stand a chance; she was gone before Easter.

Indeed, she silently agrees, as the first road sign for the Misthaven state border comes into sight. “You know, I have some of that chicken broth ready to thaw in the freezer if you’d like it. I made Henry some before I left so he wouldn’t be completely devoid of his mother’s touch, but I do have some leftover, enough for two, maybe three…” she trails off. “Perhaps, if you want, it’s not turkey or-”

“Regina, are you kidding? That would be great! Thank you so much!” He squeezes her hand, and both have gotten so used to the feel of one another that that gentle squeeze makes them realise that they’re still connected. Still, neither pull away.

“Robin, you’re driving both us home for Christmas. I want this to be a way I can pay back that kindness. Plus,” she laughs, “you said your friend doesn’t know the front of a turkey from the back, and anything to help you avoid food poisoning…”

Robin also laughs then. “You’re right. I wonder if I can get back in time to magically make the cookies I made John leave out for Santa disappear… though, knowing his willpower, he’s probably already devoured them… if Will hadn’t got there first.” Robin grins at the thought of his oldest friends, the best couple he knows, battling over the final chocolate chip. “It’s never anything but fun with them around, even if their cooking skills leave little to be desired.”

Regina laughs along with him, nodding in agreement. “Do you put carrots out too?” Robin shakes her head and Regina feigns shock. “But the poor reindeer! The poor reindeer will be hungry after their near-on impossible trek across the globe!” She giggles then, feeling a little lighter. “Henry makes sure that I cut up enough carrots for all of Santa’s reindeer. Two for Rudolph because he’s got a bright red nose.”

It’s nice to know that they share some traditions, wanting to keep the magic of Christmas alive for just that little longer. As they cross over the Misthaven border, they know their time together is coming to a close. Both are eager to get back to their respective sons, but both know something new was also born tonight. All out of a missed flight. Who would have ever thought it.

***

Robin can’t help the laugh that erupts out of him when Regina tells him her address. “It’s not a mansion!” she exclaims. “Just a rather large house.” With a lot of empty bedrooms, more space than she needs, she tells him as they round the corner to Mifflin Street.

They’d hit a bit of traffic on their approach, adding another hour to their arrival time, but still, it’s Christmas morning, and sleepy and dishevelled she - they both - may be, they’re almost there.

Robin puts the car into park as he releases the trunk for Regina to grab her luggage, telling her as he does that Tink had arranged for him to bring the car back to the nearest rental point the following day. So, it may not have been perfect, but at least their problem had a resolution.

“Thank you, Robin. Truly,” Regina says, clasping his hand yet again. “I am ever so grateful to you. From the bottom of my heart, from both Henry and I - thank you.”

Robin shakes it off with a blush. “Of course. I wasn’t about to leave you sitting at the gate for the entirety of Christmas, wondering what you were going to do. Even if you weren’t close by, I’d of still taken you home. If I hadn’t… well, where’s the Christmas spirit in that, huh?” She nods in agreement. “Let me get that luggage for you - go see your son!” 

They both step out of the car and Robin rounds the car to get her bags as Regina approaches the front door, walking up the pathway on tired legs, when the door opens, revealing a delighted Henry, donned in his reindeer pajamas.

“Mommaaaaa!” He cries out, running towards her in his fluffy slippers, Regina sinking to her knees to greet her son in the biggest hug she has ever given him. She locks him in her embrace as she begins to cry into his shoulder and they rock together, so, so glad to be finally reunited.

It’s a beautiful sight which Robin observes from the gate, a distance he thinks is respectable. He watches as a young blonde lady comes from behind the door with an equally wide smile, someone Regina embraces when she stands. It makes him itch to get back to his own son, his form of dysfunctional family that he loves and appreciates so much.

Robin’s about to make a quiet exit, when Henry clocks him and calls out. “Who’s this?” 

Regina beckons him forward then, pushing the gate open and stepping onto the path. “This,” she says, approaching Robin with an outstretched hand, “is Robin. Robin is the reason I’m home at all,” she smiles.

He’s not ready for the little cannonball that careers into his stomach, the arms that wrap around him with a muffled thank you, thank you, thank you! Henry looks up at him with watery eyes and a dopey grin as Regina lands a hand on his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Regina smiles, tapping Henry’s shoulder as she does, and Robin pays it no mind. 

“Anything to help. I’m glad I could get your momma back in time for your big day.”

Henry nods enthusiastically. “It’s the best Christmas present ever!”

“I should have come wrapped in a bow, huh?” Regina turns to the path. “This is Emma, a good friend of mine and also an angel in disguise.”

Emma puts her hands up, flipping her long hair back over her shoulder. “She gives me too much credit. Thank you, Robin.”

He nods, only too happy that they have all been reunited, but then he realises he may be overstaying his welcome. Henry is starting to shiver, the adrenaline from earlier starting to wear off and, of course, he has his own boy to return home to. 

Regina tells Henry to head back inside with Emma so he doesn’t get a chill and, with one last little squeeze to Robin’s middle, he complies (but only as far as the doorway). Regina turns to Robin then, with a hugely grateful smile and extends her arms out around him. He doesn’t expect it at first, so doesn’t respond for the first beat or so, but, when his body catches up with his mind, he reciprocates, hugging her tightly. 

“Thank you,” Regina whispers as she rests her chin on his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’d of done without you.”

“Got on that flight?” He quips and she playfully shoves at his shoulder. “In all seriousness, thank you too. I haven’t actually spoken to anyone who’s gone through something similar to what me and my boy are going through right now, and I hadn’t realised just how… lonely it was going to be.” 

Regina nods in understanding, both hands coming to his shoulders. “Believe me, please, that it does get better. Soon, you’ll be able to think of your wife with fondness, rather than upset and of course, those days will happen too, you’ll always wonder what if, but you take those days. It’s how it goes, it’s how grief is. It feels like a vice, tearing you up, spitting you out, again and again…”

“... but there is another day,” he finishes her sentence and she nods, with a smile.

“Right. Your son is so, so lucky to have you, Robin, and I have no doubt that he’ll grow to be an exceptional young man, if he’s anything like you.”

“I will say the same of Henry, Regina. With you, the love and determination you have, he has what he needs to grow.” Regina sniffs at that, holding back tears at Robin’s words, like it’s an affirmation she never even knew she needed.

“Thank you seems a little repetitive, huh?” she laughs. “Go, go be with your son! I’ll go get that soup for you first though. Wait right here!” Before he has a chance to respond, she’s in the house and back out, and he swears she’s back in mere seconds. “Here!” She hands him the tupperware in a tote bag. “I’ve also put in a few of my famous apple turnovers,” she explains. “Henry loves them! Managed to make some last weekend,” she explains. “Make sure you heat them between 350 and 400 okay?”

“Fahrenheit, right?” he asks, and she looks unimpressed. “Sorry, I only work in celsius.”

“Yes, fahrenheit! Anyway, wait til they’re crispy and leave them to cool, then serve them after five minutes. They’re perfect with whipped cream. It’s a old Mills family recipe. You should be very honoured that you get to have these,” she grins.

“Oh without a doubt, milady, I’m sure these will be the best pastries I have ever tasted.”

There’s a whining _Mommmm_! Coming from inside, and Regina explains that he most likely just wants to open his gifts. With one last quick hug, Regina pulls back. “Merry Christmas, Robin.”

“And Merry Christmas to you too, Regina. Look after yourself.” He pauses. “May our paths meet again.”

“Oh, I do hope so,” she grins, letting her hands drop to her sides. “Bye, Robin.”

He only smiles a goodbye as she turns and walks back towards the front door. She stops suddenly, then, and turns, walking right back up to him. “Why don’t you and Roland come spend Christmas with us? Invite John and Will too. We have plenty of food, plenty of space.”

Robin’s brows rise. “Are you sure?”

“Really!” she adds enthusiastically. “The more the merrier. I think Henry might like having another kid to talk comics with.”

“Ah, by kid, I think you mean big kid - Little John is most certainly a Marvel fan.” He nods. “I’d love to, and any chance those two will get out of making Christmas dinner will be most appreciated.”

“Give me a call when you’re on your way,” she tells him, passing him a business card from the bag across her shoulder. “Bring absolutely anything you like.” It’s not like Regina to do this, but she feels generous, in the spirit, grateful that she’s here in time to enjoy the day with her family and now, her new friends.

As Regina watches him leave with a small wave from the rental car, she can’t help but smile. Missing her flight turned out to be a very pleasant experience and, it may seem premature, but it could just be that she has just established another tradition. She doesn’t dare to hope of what could come of this, but their meeting was pure fate.

***

Regina suggests to Henry that they go up to Firefly Hill that afternoon, after lunch and Henry, in turn, suggests that everyone, Robin and friends included, make the mini pilgrimage with them. They accept the invitation without hesitation, and Regina knows for sure then fate worked entirely in her favour.


End file.
